


Bokuto's lack of understanding towards the concept of "subtlety"

by aiviloti



Series: Jazz Club Chronicles [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Classical Musicians, Fluff, M/M, a lot of fluff, bokuaka week stuff!!!, bokuto being a dork, jazz musicians, side sakuatsu and kagehina, the musicians au i wanted to see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25725121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aiviloti/pseuds/aiviloti
Summary: They engage in a staring competition. Akaashi loses.“...is there something I can help you with?”“Are you single?”“You don’t know my name and you’re asking me if I’m single?”Validation comes in many forms for Bokuto Koutarou.Sometimes, it’s loving Akaashi Keiji, and having the same intensity of love echoing back at him.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Jazz Club Chronicles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865962
Comments: 9
Kudos: 86
Collections: BokuAka Week





	Bokuto's lack of understanding towards the concept of "subtlety"

**Author's Note:**

> Please can you tell I am very passionated about Haikyuu characters as musicians

Validation comes in many forms for Bokuto Koutarou.

It is the cheers when he nails a particularly difficult part in a concert. It is the letters he keeps stashed away in a box he keeps under the bed, letters from so many people over the years who have all told him, “Thank you, Bokuto, I started picking up the trumpet because of you”, “Thank you for the incredible music you bring to the world, thank you for giving me something that makes the world feel a tad more worth living today”. It comes in the form of Hinata’s admiring looks at his cooking, who no one ever praises.

Sometimes, it comes in the form of lingering stares.

“What?” Atsumu’s eyes widened at Bokuto’s statement. “You have never seen Shouyou perform live?”

They were helping themselves to teppanyaki, a suggestion oddly brought up by Sakusa, out of all people. It was a splendid autumn evening, and the chill outside simply made the teppanyaki more heavenly, if anything.

“Is it really such a big deal?” It took Bokuto three tries, but he eventually succeeded in retrieving the piece of steak he wanted from the pan. Something about the glint in Sakusa’s eyes told Bokuto that if he hadn’t succeeded by the third try, he was going to be skinned alive.

Atsumu looked appalled. “Bokkun,” he cried, “I know you’re a purebred classical musician, but it wouldn’t hurt to venture out and try other genres every now and then, y’know? There’s more to life than Mahler’s 5th symphony!”

Sakusa looks only mildly interested in the conversation as he fishes a piece of scallop out with much more grace and agility than Bokuto had displayed. “Hinata’s playing is really … something. It’s worth watching in person. I would suggest you try to find a time for it.”

Hinata gave everyone a scandalised look. “Are you guys going to keep talking about me like I’m not even here?”

Bokuto laughed. “Alright then, tell me when your next performance is, I can’t wait to see what you conjure up.”

“Kageyama and I own the bar, Bokuto. We perform everyday. Just come whenever.”

This is how Bokuto finds himself here in this jazz bar on a Tuesday night, and how he finds himself forgetting his very purpose for the visit the very moment he catches sight of the most beautiful person he has ever seen, who conveniently sits in front of him.

The lights are dim, presumably in support of the general vibe and aesthetic of the bar. It’s gorgeous, it’s ethereal, but at the moment, Bokuto only wishes he could make sure if the person in front of him’s eyes were as blue as they seemed, or was it a trick of the light.

The person seemed to find him interesting, or so he’d hoped. Every now and then, he stole a few glances over to look at their table. Bokuto could only hope this attention was directed at him, and not at Sakusa and Atsumu, who conveniently decided to spend the rest of their night squabbling about whether Atsumu or Kageyama was a better pianist.

“Look at those chords,” Atsumu sneers. “He’s playing jazz, for heaven’s sake. Isn’t there anything spicier he can do? Shouyou taking up the entire spotlight.”

“He’s Kageyama Tobio, I don’t know what your point is. If there’s anyone who can make even the most conventional chord choice sing, it’s him. I don’t see you doing any better anyway, your playing is so silky that you could literally play with a beginner and still get swallowed up by them whole.

“Oh  _ puh-lease _ , Omi-omi, this is a demonstration of skill. It means my playing is impeccable, and if you can’t even sound good when you’re playing with me, that’s all on you.” Atsumu rolls his eyes, then clings to Bokuto for help. “Bokkun,” he wails. “Look at this injustice! Tell Omi-omi that I’m a downright remarkable player!”

It is at this moment that Mr. I-have-eyes-as-blue-as-all-of-Neptune-put-together decides to turn his head over, and his eyes meet Bokuto’s. 

Bokuto’s brain short circuits.

“Bokkun? Bokkun, what are you looking at-” Atsumu begins, his eyes following the trails of Bokuto’s sight, and softly he whispers, “Ah.”

In the same moment, Sakusa lets out a very audible sigh, which in hindsight after Bokuto clears his head enough to process a single coherent thought, acknowledges is an incredible feat, to let out a sigh loud and desolate enough to be heard even as Hinata and Kageyama play onstage.

Bokuto does what any standard guy with a newly developed crush would do. He winks at the person and gives him the most charming smile he manages to muster. And develop approximately 57 regrets in the next second to come.

The piece — whatever it was that Hinata had been playing while Bokuto’s brain ceased to function — ends, inviting a round of applause from the audience. Bokuto is sorry to see the stranger wrench his gaze away (that’s how he chooses to interpret it, there must have been at least a little bit of longing in so long a gaze?!), but he is here today for Hinata Shouyou. So he flicks his attention back to the stage, back to Hinata and Kageyama.

The performance is beautiful. Bokuto is frankly unsurprised, as he expected nothing less from Hinata. He had a significantly later start than the rest of them in the gang, but his sense for music was unrivaled. Once his technical skills were polished, he simply took flight. 

But tonight, Bokuto is not here to wax poetic about the duo and their music, for he has found a new target that demands his attention. 

Atsumu does not care for his next target of attention. He tugs at Bokuto’s shirt. “Come on Bokkun, we’re going to talk to Shouyou.”

“Stop staring, it’s embarrassing,” Sakusa shoots him a withering glare, and he reluctantly obliges.

They walk across the tables that separates them and the performing duo. It takes a lot of effort for Bokuto, who has never been the best at hiding blatant admiration, to not glance in the extremely good looking stranger’s general direction. “If you act more naturally, you’ll get your shot, Bokkun,” Atsumu murmurs.

“I’m not trying to shoot any shots,” he retaliates defensively.

“Please shut up, both of you.”

Hinata greets them with a dazzling smile. “How was it, how was it, Bokuto!”

Like hell Bokuto was going to be outshined. He flashes him a smile, bigger than Hinata’s. “That was fantastic, where did you learn to play like that-”

“He wasn’t looking, he was staring at the guy in front of us. The one who comes alone all the time.”

_ Ah, _ Bokuto thinks, his smile freezing.  _ I’m never treating you to anything ever again, Sakusa. _

“No I wasn’t,” he pouts. “Tsum-tsum and Sakyo-kun were  _ arguing _ over you! The guy was probably bothered by them so I was-” he grapples for the word, before trailing off guiltily, “...apologising.”

All three of his friends looked very unimpressed.

Atsumu is the first to break the silence. “Bokkun, you keep staring. Please just...” his head drops into his hands, “...ask for his name, or something.”

“That’s Akaashi! He plays piano!” Hinata helpfully supplies as Bokuto comes to the conclusion that Hinata only has one volume. 

“Shhhhh,” he and Sakusa hisses. 

“Sorry.” Hinata does not sound at all sorry, his voice nowhere more quieter. “Go talk to him! You’ll get to hear me play another time, I forgive you!”

Bokuto stares at his friends, an excited Hinata, an amused Atsumu and a horrified Sakusa.

“You’re going to go harass the poor guy,” Sakusa is in shock. Maybe in denial of their friendship too. 

“Yeah,” Bokuto says with newfound energy. “I’m going to go ask Akaashi if he’s single.”

“Yeah, go get your mans, Bokuto,” Atsumu cheers.

“Oh, my, god,” Sakusa’s voice quivers, looking like he’s either going to take off running into the wilderness of Hinata and Kageyama’s jazz club or combust on the spot from the shame of being associated with these people. Instead, he claps his hands together and mutters, “I’m so sorry, Akaashi-san.”

Bokuto flees despite the mixed response from his gang of friends. Something tells him this feeling of being able to scale Mount Everest is the side effects of validation that comes in the form of Akaashi’s eyes on his, and perhaps Hinata’s soothing tunes that he may have retained more than expected. It’s grandiose, and it will not last.

He sweeps into the seat and looks at Akaashi, who in turn has a flash of excitement in his eyes that quickly moulded into fear, then indifference. The shifts were so fast you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t paying close attention, which Bokuto absolutely was.

“You were looking at me,” he says, hoping Akaashi doesn’t hear the shake in his voice.

He watches Akaashi choke on his drink, and his heart sinks as the reply comes between violent coughs. “Only because  _ you _ were looking at me first.” He looks utterly bewildered.

“Uh huh.” They engage in a staring competition. Akaashi loses.

“...is there something I can help you with?”

“Are you single?” 

“You don’t know my name and you’re asking me if I’m single?” Akaashi asks.

“Oh,” Bokuto laughs at his own hastiness. He gestures at the gaggle of friends behind him and continues, “I know your name, my friends told me! So are you?”

Bokuto watches Akaashi burn up, a buffering sign practically appearing on top of his head. “I d-don’t know your name, and you’re asking me if I’m single?”

“I’m Bokuto,” he grins, “Bokuto Koutarou! Nice to meet you, Akaashi Keiji!” He holds out a hand to Akaashi. When Akaashi takes it without a moment of hesitation, his heart sings.

“You should have started with that,” he mutters. “Yes, I’m single, what about it?”

Perhaps Akaashi is right, and perhaps he should indeed have started with a self introduction, but as he holds onto Akaashi’s warm hand in his, he supposes this is alright too. He doesn’t spare another moment before continuing the next session of his pursuit. “Good to know, I’m single too! Can I ask you out on a date?”

The time between the question and Akaashi stretches a million years to Bokuto. As he watches Akaashi’s brows scrunch together and his irises flicker from him to their hands, still intertwined, to something behind him that he assumed was his friends not bothering to hide the fact that they were looking at him, Bokuto doubts his charms for a hot second. 

After an eternity, a reply.

“What?”

_ Oh good, not a rejection _ , he thinks.  _ That’s right, Bokuto Koutarou doesn’t get rejected! Green light!  _ “I’m asking you on a date! Because you look like someone I would like to be friends with!”

“Do you ask everyone you want to befriend on a date?”

“No,” Bokuto says earnestly. “I only ask people who I’m interested in being more than friends on dates, but Sakusa tells me not to scare and scar you further than I inevitably will!” He says without a second thought, yet the realisation of the weight of his words quickly sink in. “Oh noooooo,” he groans. “Now I’ve gone and been too forward, and lost my one chance at everything good in this universe!” 

Perhaps he was being dramatic, but it was getting more difficult for him by the moment to look at Akaashi and not be convinced that there was something special about this guy.

“I-I’ll do it,” he hears Akaashi say, his voice soft. “I’ll g-go on a date with you, Bokuto-san.”

“Really?” he looks up.

Akaashi nods. “Really,” he says, and fanfares play in Bokuto’s head.

Validation comes in many forms for Bokuto Koutarou.

It is watching players as accomplished as even Hinata Shouyou look at him with idolisation in his eyes. It is Akaashi Keiji agreeing to a date with him after a first conversation that didn’t even exceed five minutes. It is the gradual list of incredible things to come, like their first duet performance. It is not having to excel in everything when he’s with him, how they can both fall on the ice among the clattering sounds of ice skates, and still laugh. It’s the tension in Akaashi’s shoulders as he wrangles with Rachmaninoff and Liszt and Ravel leaving at the first touch of his fingertips on them.

It’s loving Akaashi Keiji, and having the same intensity of love echoing back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of the first scene of the other !! Watch me go further and further w this AU because I'm desperate for kiddoes as classical/jazz musicians lmaooooo
> 
> You can find me here at [tumblr](https://aiviloti.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/aiviloti)! Holler at me about bokuaka or sakuatsu or kagehina and music things bc there are more plans to come o7777 cyaaaa i vanish off into the wilderness to write


End file.
